


Close Call

by Merrinpippy



Series: Harrymort and Tomarry Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: As in Harry is on Voldemort's side, Dark Harry, M/M, Not like Harry is suddenly a goth and hates everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 18:44:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12018771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merrinpippy/pseuds/Merrinpippy
Summary: Harry returns from a close call drenched in blood. Voldemort is less than impressed with his conduct.





	Close Call

**Author's Note:**

> HAVSGAST asks:  
> “You look like an open autopsy.” + Harrymort

“You look like an open autopsy.”

“Thanks for that. It’s not like I’m bleeding out or anything,” Harry said, flopping down onto the previously pristine white couch in Voldemort’s bedroom that, for the meantime, doubled as his study. Voldemort winced.

“If you could keep your innards  _away_ from my expensive furniture…”

“Sure, I’ll definitely do that,” Harry said, looking Voldemort directly in the eye and swinging his legs up onto the couch too. Slowly but surely, Harry’s blood was staining the material, and Voldemort had to fight the urge to curse the boy out of the room.

“What did you even do to attain such… injuries?” Voldemort wasn’t even entirely sure whether the blood and questionable other things on him were Harry’s or his enemies’. At this rate, he kind of hoped it was both.

“It was your fault, actually,” Harry sniffed, even while he was directing his wand at himself and stitching up his wounds. “Everything you told me was wrong. I was ambushed by twice the amount of men you described, earlier than you described, and in a different place to the one you described. It was a mess.”

Voldemort pointedly looked at Harry’s body. “Evidently. I shall have to  _question_ my source, in that case, if his information was so dreadfully wrong.” It was unusual for anyone to offer up incorrect information, and a prickle of unease went through him at the thought of how things might have gone if Harry had not been so lucky as to get out alive.

At least now he knew what he would be doing with his evening; Voldemort had been wanting to cast the cruciatus on a good victim for a while now, but hadn’t had the opportunity. His source would feel the wrath of Lord Voldemort for daring to put his Harry into such danger unwarned. Nevertheless, he had more pressing things to attend to currently.

“I wasn’t even aware that Dumbledore had that many on his leash,” Voldemort continued, frowning. “And these twenty-odd adversaries, what of them now?”

Harry shrugged. “Dead, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Voldemort smirked. “And your cover? None relayed who you were before their untimely ends?”

“None of them recognised me. I’m getting weirdly good at self-transfiguration, if I do say so myself.” The last open wound closed, and Harry set down his wand with a satisfied huff. “I do learn from the best, I suppose.”

“Yes, you do…” Voldemort stood, inclining his head towards the ensuite. Harry followed the movement with interest. “Now, how about we get you cleaned up?” 


End file.
